


Golden Hours

by icarus_chained



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Domestic, Ficlet Collection, M/M, Microfic, Snakes, Tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-22
Updated: 2012-05-22
Packaged: 2017-11-05 20:30:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/410702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icarus_chained/pseuds/icarus_chained
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A set of five microfics, written from prompts. Aziraphale, Crowley, and those little golden moments.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Golden Hours

**Coils:**

There was a strange comfort, in the weight of Crowley about his shoulders, a warmth in the solidity of those heavy, encircling coils. One that Aziraphale, somewhat blasphemously, knew no equal to, in Heaven or on Earth. Though naturally, he would never dream of saying so.

**Wine:**

Dionysus had told them that wine was the gate to remembering, not forgetting. To truth, and not lies. Watching the languid, wicked creature before him, remembering so many evenings, just like this, Aziraphale ... thought he might have been right.

**Tea:**

The liquid steamed, warm and rich and red, then golden, as the white milk curled through it. Darkness and light, curled together, a perfect, decadent brew. Raising the cup to his lips, Aziraphale smiled at his demon.

**Gold:**

Crowley's eyes gleamed, a burnished sheen, dark and wicked and fierce, shining close, unclosing, as Aziraphale softly pressed his lips home. A treasure beyond price.

**Journal:**

Aziraphale traced pale fingers over the binding, rich, heavy leather, the pages, thick and cream-coloured, yellowed with age, yet blank. Old and empty and inviting. But not so inviting as a demon's small smile, as he waited for the verdict on his gift.


End file.
